The Living Earth

It is the fragrant eve of June and all the world is green,
Buried in the highway's roar, so much flies past unseen,
Even through the windshield glass, I mark the dancing crows
And how the freeway fences shelter buds of wild rose.

The radish and the redwood tree a dozen cycles link,
Plants that make our food and clean the water that we drink.
The sun sustains us all through these, like pearls upon a string,
A thread, a web, a tapestry, through every living thing.

I bike to work and walk to church and hang my clothes to dry,
But who has seen the salmon run, or watched the condor fly?
Let us make ourselves a place that will not leave a scar,
And let our passing leave the threads no weaker than they are.

For oilfields or superstores, we tear the trees away
Jostling the balance binding predator and prey
Depending on the web of life for every breath we draw
On the heap of injury we toss another straw.

The strings we pull for power's sake, to run our own affairs
Are ravelling the tapestry till even weather tears.
Concrete breaks as dandelions stretch toward the light.
There never was a living thing would yield without a fight

LetÁs leave the streams their flooding room, where spring's wild rhythms run
Build to take advantage of the gifts of wind and sun,
Opt for fewer children, while we teach the ones we've borne
To weave our life lines back into the tapestry we've torn

Frogs and crickets sing of love, and ask nobody's leave,
The blackbird wears his hopeful heart upon his feathered sleeve,
Flowers don their dresses now, to lure the passing bee;
In June, to love the living earth, comes easily to me.